


Reconstruct From Within

by FictionalNutter



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Brainwashing, Humiliation, Hurt Sam Winchester, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Protective Dean Winchester, Psychological Trauma, Rape, Rape Recovery, Torture, dream walking, voicemail fix
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-09-16
Updated: 2013-10-03
Packaged: 2017-12-26 18:19:32
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 5
Words: 9,080
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/968805
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FictionalNutter/pseuds/FictionalNutter
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dean tried to call Sam when he got back from 2014, but didn't manage to get a hold of him from over a week. Sam tells him not to look for him, but Dean thinks something is wrong, so he looks anyway. When he finds Sam, nothing could prepare him for the state in which he finds his little brother. Can be read as Wincest, or just emotional brother bonding. Nothing explicit between Sam and Dean.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Missing Sam

**Prologue**

Dean snapped open his phone, relief and anger coursing through him in unison. "Sam? What the hell, man? I've been trying to get a hold of you for over a week!"

"...Sorry, Dean." Sam's voice sounded strained.

"Are you okay?" Dean asked immediately, concern winning out over anger for the time being.

"I'm..." There was a pause, and some murmuring in the background, then Sam took a deep breath and replied, "Yeah, Dean, I'm fine. Why were you calling?"

"To talk," Dean told him, his tone implying that it should be obvious. "I...some serious crap went down after you called me, and I changed my mind. I wanted to tell you, but you wouldn't pick up the damn phone."

"Sorry. I've been...busy." Sam's voice sounded strange, but Dean couldn't pinpoint why.

"Can we meet up?" Dean asked hopefully. He'd been ready to bring Sam back in over a week ago, when Castiel had pulled him away from Zachariah, but all the time he'd spent trying to find out why Sam wasn't answering his phone and getting worried had made him even more prepared to accept his brother again.

Sam took a deep breath. "The thing is, Dean, you were right. It's probably better if we stay away from each other for now. I'm...off the grid, I guess, and you shouldn't look for me."

Dean inhaled sharply. "You serious, Sam? Because I don't think that's the smart thing anymore."

"Just, trust me. You're much safer if you stay away from me. I...it's just better, okay?" Sam sounded off, but Dean still wasn't sure why.

"Man, what about Lucifer? You want to just deal with that crap by yourself?" Dean challenged. He was more than ready to help shoulder some of that burden. They were family first, right? He could let go of his anger if it meant protecting his little brother.

"I got myself into this mess, Dean, I can handle it," Sam said firmly.

Dean scowled at the phone, even though he knew Sam couldn't see him. "This isn't going to end well, Sam. We need to be together. We're stronger as a team."

"No, Dean, we're not. You're better off on your own. Just, stick with Cas and take care of yourself, okay?" Sam sighed slowly into the phone as he said this.

"What are you going to do?" Dean asked belligerently.

"Hold on," Sam replied simply, then the line went dead.

Dean stood there for a moment, glaring at his cell phone, before rolling his eyes up to the ceiling and praying for Castiel.

"Yes, Dean?" Castiel appeared directly in front of Dean, just a breath away from being inside what Dean had referred to as his personal bubble.

"Cas, something's wrong with Sam," Dean said with no introduction. "I don't know where he is. I know you can't find him directly, but I need someone to help me look, and you're all I've got."

Castiel's brow furrowed. "Why do you believe he is in trouble?"

Dean scowled. "First, he calls me, panicked because Lucifer has shown up and informed Sam that he's Lucifer's vessel. I told him to pick a hemisphere and hung up on him, because I was still pissed. After Zachariah's field trip though I changed my mind. So, second, I called him, repeatedly, and he never picked up. For a week. Unless he's dead or dying, he doesn't do that. Third, I just finally talked to him, and he sounded really off. I don't know what's going on with him, but I'm not letting him go. I need to find him, Cas." He took a deep breath after his monologue, leveling his stare at Castiel as an invitation to be challenged.

Castiel considered Dean for a moment, then nodded. "I understand. I will make inquiries. Do you know where Sam was when you last spoke?"

"I called Bobby, and he said Sam had asked him to send someone to take care of something he'd found in Oklahoma," Dean offered. "I guess Sam was holing up there. No garuntees he's still there though."

"I will search," Castiel promised, vanishing from the room.

Dean breathed in and out carefully, tapping the cell phone against his lips.  _What the hell happened to you, Sam?_

 


	2. Finding Sam

Dean pressed his fist to his mouth as he leaned against the hospital doorway, trying to work up the will to simply walk into the room. He'd seen his little brother injured so many times he'd lost count, but seeing him in a coma? That was an entirely different matter. He supposed he should be grateful that they'd found Sam at all. It was mostly due to Castiel. The angel might not have been able to locate Sam directly because of his ribs, but he was a surprisingly good detective. The two of them had gone over the area Bobby had sent hunters to with a fine tooth comb, eventually finding a bar that Sam had worked at. According to the manager, he'd lost two employees recently. The first, a shaggy-haired tall guy, had just vanished, though the manager blamed him for tearing up the bar. The second was a young woman named Lindsey, and the manager had been sorry to lose her. Apparently she'd cited trauma at an incident she'd "rather not disclose" as her reason for leaving.

By that point, Dean was beyond antsy. As far as he was counting, Sam had been missing for about two weeks. With Castiel's help, he was able to locate the girl, who had moved two states over practically overnight. She refused to tell them exactly what had happened to freak her out, but did admit that Sam saved her life. All she would tell them was that she'd been held hostage in order to coerce Sam into doing what his attackers wanted. Dean pressed her for names, but she only knew their first names - Tim and Reggie.

It didn't matter. Dean knew Tim Janklow and Reggie Hull. He didn't know them well, but he knew they were hunters. They were probably the hunters Bobby had called in on whatever case Sam had told him about. What Dean didn't understand was why they'd go after Sam. Lindsey might have had an idea, but she didn't want to say. After Dean had told her he was Sam's brother though, she made it a point to tell him that she could easily see that Sam's biggest regret was letting Dean down. Dean thanked her, but inside he was having trouble refraining from screaming. As if he needed another reason to be desperate for his brother's safe return.

Tim and Reggie weren't high enough on the paygrade to know to ward against angels, so Castiel was able to locate them. Dean insisted on following them, when the first time they were located didn't immediately lead to Sam. It didn't take long though. Tim and Reggie returned to the basement where Sam was being held a day later, and Dean lost all sight of any cohesive plan he'd had. All he could think was  _save Sam_. Castiel was apparently on board with the plan, and put the literal fear of God into Sam's captors. In spite of the wrath of an angel of the Lord, however, Tim managed to deal a vicious blow to Sam before Castiel removed him, knocking Sam unconscious. Dean tended to Sam as best as he could while Castiel dealt with the renegade hunters who had attacked him. Once he had dealt with Tim and Reggie, and Dean did not ask what he'd done, Castiel helped Dean retrieve all of Sam's belongings and flew them both to a hospital.

Now, Dean could only stand and stare at his brother's limp form. Based on what he'd found while searching, Tim and Reggie had already captured Sam when he finally picked up his phone. Why had Sam told him not to look for him? Had Tim and Reggie been monitoring the call, or maybe instructed Sam what to say? Dean didn't know, but he was growing increasingly more concerned about Sam's head injury. It was hardly the first time Sam had been knocked out, but the doctors were saying that it was possible Sam was too locked inside of himself to come out, or was perhaps devoid of a reason to want to return.

Castiel appeared behind Dean, perhaps sensing Dean's need for someone to speak to. "Has there been any change?" He asked quietly.

"No, he's still out," Dean murmured. "Cas, is there anything...?"

Hesitating, Castiel said slowly, "I am inclined to agree with your human doctors that Sam is trapped in his mind. Otherwise, he would be recovering from the head injury."

"Can you fix that?" Dean asked hopefully.

"It is up to Sam," Castiel informed him sadly. "It is not a task I can help with."

Dean sighed dejectedly, shifting his gaze back to Sam.

"However..." Castiel offered cautiously, raising an eyebrow as Dean's eyes snapped back to him. "It is possible that I might be able to help you find Sam. Perhaps he simply needs encouragement."

"What do you mean?" Dean asked, torn between skepticism and raw desperation.

Castiel was frowning, but there was a kind of hopeful consideration in his eyes. "I may be able to get you into his dreamscape," He announced.

Dean froze. "Enter his mind?" He asked warily. "Is that even possible? Or safe?"

"I can keep you safe," Castiel informed him mildly, giving Dean a disparaging glance he seemed to have perfected. "It is possible, but it will require...finesse."

"Give it to me straight, Cas. Can we do this? Will it help him?" Dean was well aware how desperate his expression looked, but he was beyond caring.

Castiel wrestled with the question for a moment before nodding. "Yes. Take a seat beside the bed; I will need the two of you to be touching."

Dean moved quickly to the seat beside Sam's hospital bed, reaching forward and taking Sam's hand in his. "This good?" He asked tersely.

"It will do," Castiel responded. He adjusted his position until he could easily touch both Winchester boys' heads, then took a deep breath. "Are you ready?"

Dean hesitated. "I don't have an answer for that, man. Just do it."

Accepting that, Castiel nodded and closed his eyes, pressing two fingers from each hand onto each boy's head.

Unaware of even falling asleep, Dean was startled when he opened his eyes to see the bar where they'd questioned the manager Sam had worked with in Oklahoma. Aware that this was Sam's dreamscape and he should be able to find his brother somewhere in it, Dean began to examine the room in detail, looking for any sign of Sam.

It was the smallest of sounds, but Dean followed the whimper behind the bar, running as soon as he had sight of his little brother. "Sam? You okay, man?"

Sam was curled up on himself, wearing bloody and stained clothing that had been torn in multiple places. He looked up, but through Dean, not at him.

"Sam, can you hear me?" Dean asked, his voice harsh.

"You're not real, you can't see this," Sam moaned, shaking his head. "Please, you can't. You need to be safe, stay away!"

Confused, Dean hauled Sam up onto his feet, taking a second to examine his taller brother. "Are you okay? You're covered in blood."

"You need to be safe," Sam repeated, still not really looking at Dean.

There was a sudden disturbance of noise, and Dean realized that whatever memory he'd come in on was getting started. He could see Sam in front of him, but this was a memory version of Sam. Tim had entered the bar, and was speaking.

"You can't see," Sam whimpered. "You need to be safe."

"Why do you keep saying that?" Dean muttered, eyes fixed on the scene. Lindsey wouldn't tell him what happened, and it was important that he find out. He wasn't entirely sure why, but he knew he had to know.

It was quickly evident that Tim was in rough shape. Dean could understand that, having lost plenty of friends over the years. It wasn't something you got over, especially not when the event was fresh. Dean clutched Sam to him as he watched, letting Sam bury his head in Dean's shoulder. He watched as memory Sam apologized for Steve's loss, only to see confusion blossom on his brother's face when Tim snapped back at him.

"Sorry doesn't cut it, Sam," Tim threw at him.

"What do you want me to say?" Memory Sam asked, clearly puzzled.

"The truth!" Tim barked, eyes fierce.

Dean's eyes narrowed. Where was this going? Tim began to explain how Steve had died. Sam apologized, and Dean could see the sincerity in his eyes, but Tim just brushed it away, like it meant nothing. Having ignored his fair share of Sam's apologies, Dean could identify, but it rankled to see someone else do it. Tim continued, commenting that the demons had told him things about Sam.

Dean understood the exact moment comprehension flooded memory Sam's face. "Demons lie," the memory of his brother said quickly.

Tim wasn't buying it. He demanded answeres from memory Sam, and Dean winced as he watched fear creep into his brother's expression. Sam, the one in his arms, was tense, and clearly afraid.

About to ask for clarification, Dean was sidelined by the introduction of two new figures to the scene. Reggie entered the bar, draggin Lindsey with him. Dean growled in reaction, even though he knew Lindsey was fine. It wasn't in his nature to sit idly by while innocents were hurt. Memory Sam's expression changed dramatically as well, fear for himself draining away immediately to be replaced with fear for Lindsey.

Clearly Lindsey's presence was leverage, and it worked. As soon as memory Sam managed to get Reggie to put his knife down, he turned to Tim and said, "It's true. What the demons said - it's all true."

Dean winced. He didn't want to listen to his brother admit to what he'd done again, but he needed to know how this had played out. The Sam in his arms was trembling now.

Tim simply nodded and said, "Keep going."

Prepared to hear Sam detail what he'd done, Dean was surprised instead to hear, "Why? You gonna hate me any less? Am I gonna hate myself any less?" coming from memory Sam's lips. Dean cringed. He had known that Sam was sorry, but to hear the self-loathing in his little brother's voice was far worse.

Lindsey had her eyes fixed on memory Sam, and she was clearly confused and concerned, probably for both of them. She looked on with mounting confusion as Tim forced memory Sam to say the words, "I started the apocalypse." Dean knew there was no way she could really perceive what that meant.

For as tense as Sam was in Dean's arms, he became practically a stone, frozen in place, a cringe on his face as the scene unfolded. Confused as to the change, Dean shifted his gaze back to see Tim holding up a vial. Dean didn't need to be any closer to know what it was. Demon blood. Memory Sam clearly knew what it was too, if his reaction was any indication. Dean took comfort in the fact that Sam immediately reacted with fear and repulsion, rejecting Tim's clear offer of, as he put it, "go-juice." It was clear very quickly that Tim had a plan in this, even if he was obviously very stupid. He had no idea what Sam was like on the blood; he just wanted a weapon to take revenge for Steve. Memory Sam looked terrified, but Dean was shocked to see that most of his fear was still directed towards Lindsey, not for himself.

Then, Dean was forced to watch as Reggie and Tim tackled memory Sam to the ground, forcing his jaw open and pouring the blood into his mouth. The Sam in his arms was crying now, which broke Dean's heart. "It's okay," Dean whispered, running a hand over Sam's hair. "I know you couldn't do anything to stop it. It's fine, Sam, I'm not mad." The tension didn't fade, but Sam seemed to stop crying, so perhaps the comfort had helped.

Memory Sam lay on the ground for a moment before getting to his feet, clearly tense. Tim and Reggie at least had the good sense to look a little nervous, backing away slightly. Tim mocked memory Sam, causing Dean to grit his teeth in anger. Before he could really react though, memory Sam shocked him by spitting the blood in Tim's face. "I'll be damned," Dean commented, knowing his expression was pure surprise.

The Sam in his arms was quivering slightly, and Dean tightened his grip around his little brother. "God, Sam, I am so freaking proud of you. You didn't let them get that crap in you, you kept fighting!" His words were accented by the sounds of kicks and punches as memory Sam beat up Reggie and Tim in the background. The Sam Dean held seemed to minutely relax at Dean's words.

For a moment, Dean thought memory Sam might actually slice Tim's neck, even though he knew perfectly well that Tim and Reggie both had survived this particular memory. He watched as memory Sam sent them away, then calmed himself enough to free Lindsey, urging her to leave, in case they came back. Then, Dean watched as both memory Sam and Lindsey faded away, taking the bar with them.

Sam seemed to relax slightly, pulling his face away to look vaguely in Dean's direction. "The beginning," he murmured.

"When did they take you?" Dean asked softly.

"After," Sam answered, not seeming aware that his answer wasn't all that helpful.

Before Dean could respond, memories began to shift around him. He thought he saw Jessica, and was completely confused until she turned into Lucifer. Sam made a whimpering sound, and Dean clutched him closer without even thinking about it, hiding the memory from his brother's sight. The memory was quick, but its sequel was harder to watch. Dean knew what he was saying to Sam on the other end of the phone line, but being there to watch the pain on Sam's face was ten times as bad as hearing it masked in his voice. Memory Sam hung up the phone, looking defeated.

"I'm sorry I said that to you," Dean murmured quietly to the Sam in his arms. "I know I was an ass. If it means anything, I tried to call you back not even a day later, but you didn't answer."

It was clear why Sam didn't answer not even a moment later, as Tim and Reggie beat memory Sam's door down, barging in with loaded guns and murdurous expressions. Memory Sam was overwhelmed, and knocked out before he had much of a chance to do anything about it.

Dean took a deep breath as the memory faded, knowing that what came next would be hardest to watch. He had found Sam, now he just had to fix him. Looking down at the broken boy in his arms, Dean realized that that was going to be a lot harder than he'd anticipated. Just what had the bastards done to his brother? Dean saw the setting for the next memory begin to come into form, and he steeled himself for the trauma he knew was coming.


	3. Beating Sam

The setting that materialized around Dean was easily recognizable as the basement in which he and Castiel had found Sam. Then, when they'd saved him, he'd been naked and chained to the ceiling. Dean hadn't wanted to think about the ramifications of that. He was forced to when he saw memory Sam chained in a similar position, only with his legs spread and locked in place, instead of chained together as they had been when he'd found his brother. In this memory, as when Dean had found his brother, Sam was naked.

The real Sam didn't seem tense anymore, his expression replaced with resignment.

"How long after they took you did you wake up like this?" Dean asked quietly.

Sam shrugged. "Two days?" He guessed.

Dean sucked in a breath harshly, but didn't reply. He kept his arms around his brother, scanning the room for any other clues as to what had happened there. He was startled by the sudden noise of water being thrown over memory Sam.

"Rise and shine, monster," Reggie sneered, smacking Sam across the face as an additional wake up call.

Forcing himself to remember that he couldn't interfere with a memory, Dean leaned heavily against the wall and hid Sam's face against his chest, determined not to make his brother re-live the memories anymore than he had to.

Tim strode into the room next, glaring at Sam with undisguised hatred. "He awake?" He asked Reggie.

"Coming around," Reggie confirmed, punching Sam hard in the stomach.

Sam made a weak straining sound, and his eyes fluttered open. "What..." His vision seemed to focus, and he realized who he was with. Sam groaned and shot them both his best bitchface. "Seriously, guys? Haven't you done enough? What the hell are you playing at?"

Tim laughed. "See now, we've captured ourselves the demon whore that set Lucifer free. The way we figure it, you're not worth much to anybody anymore, and someone's got to punish you for what you did."

"Are you kidding me?" Sam snapped. "You've seriously appointed yourself as judge of me?"

"I've got as much right as anyone to judge you, kid," Tim snapped. "You're a worthless freak that tried to destroy the world. So, we're going to destroy you."

If the damaged and broken Sam in Dean's arms was any indication, that's exactly what they'd done. Dean knew he was practically vibrating with anger, so he forced himself to calm down. Tim and Reggie were both dead now, so no further harm would come to Sam. Dean would protect him, even if he hadn't been there to do it this time around.

"You stay away from me," Sam threatened, his tone dark and his expression furious.

"Who exactly do you think is going to save you?" Tim asked incredulously. Reggie snorted in the background. "See, as near as I can tell, only about two people in the world give a shit about you, and neither one of them cares enough to look for you. Why would Singer want to have anything to do with you, the boy that fucked a demon for its blood? Not to mention that brother of yours that thinks he's such a badass. Obviously he left you, so where do you get the idea that there's anything to make me stay away from you?"

Sam's face flickered through half a dozen emotions, most of them bordering on hurt and resignation, before he attempted to look defiant again. "I mean it, Tim. Let me go before you do something you'll regret."

Reggie rolled his eyes. "I don't think we'll be regretting this one," he glowered.

"You see, Sam, you deserve to be punished. In fact, you're worthless for anything else. Deep down, you know it's true." Tim stepped back, walking over to a table to pick up a fearsome looking whip. "We're just doing what's right here."

Dean felt his grip around Sam tighten as the whip began to fall, wincing at every single flicker of pain on memory Sam's face. When the pain became too great and the flinches became screams, Dean wanted to go back in time and stop this from ever happening.

"They were right," Sam whispered to him, his voice almost too quiet to hear.

Dean's eyes snapped down to Sam's head, still buried in his chest, and pulled him up so they were eye to eye. "You listen to me," he growled. "Those bastards are wrong, Sam. You did some crap, okay? I can't say I'm not still pissed about it sometimes, but when it comes down to it, you did everything you did with the right reasons in mind. I can't blame you for wanting to do the right thing, Sam, and neither can anyone else. Tim and Reggie were certifiable assholes, and nothing they did to you was deserved, do you understand me?" He took a sharp breath, his gaze intense.

Sam nodded, but it was clear in his face that he didn't believe Dean. He tucked his head back down onto Dean's chest, flinching at his own screams from the memory.

"That's enough of a warm up," Tim declared, tossing the bloodied whip down. "Reggie, you want to take the next part?"

"With pleasure," Reggie sneered, the hatred he looked at Sam with nearly overwhelming. "Listen closely, demon whore. You used your downstairs brain to destroy the world, so I think it needs to be cut off." Reggie presented a fearsome looking cock cage, grinning at the look of trepidation that crossed over Sam's face. He stepped forward and began to fasten it on, smirking every time he managed to pull a sound out of Sam in response. When he finished, he backed away, looking smug. "You know what this makes you? It's a symbol of how worthless you are. You don't deserve to cum, and you should beg for the opporunity to be made useful to others."

"Never," Sam spat, seeming to recover a bit of his fire.

Tim appeared in front of him, brandishing a torch. "You know, Sam, I don't really see a reason for you to keep your eyes. It's not like you need them, and I can't imagine that you deserve to keep your sight."

All the fire melted out of Sam in one breath, and he trembled slightly. "What do you want?" He asked tersely.

"Beg," Tim said simply. "Beg for us to use you, because that's about all you can ever hope to do again."

Sam looked like he was about to argue when Tim held up the torch again, staring meaningfully at Sam's wide eyes.

"I..." Sam trailed off, breathing harshly and shaking. "Please," he mumbled, defeated.

"Please what, Sam?" Reggie growled, slapping him across the face.

Sam winced and turned his head back to face them again. "Please use me," he said, slightly louder.

"Why should we?" Tim asked pointedly.

"'Cause I'm worthless," Sam spat out, a tear leaking out of his right eye.

"Good enough for now," Tim determined, moving around behind Sam and slapping his ass a few times, aggrivating the wounds from the whip, causing Sam to cry out.

Dean turned away. He didn't want to see this part. He knew full well from the hospital how much damage Sam's ass had sustained from repeated rapes. The doctor had told him that they had probably all been dry, and that it would take Sam a long time to heal, assuming he woke up. Dean didn't need to actually see the part happen. Instead he turned his attention on the Sam in his arms, who was tense again, curling up against Dean like it would protect him from the man who had just begun to violently thrust into him in his memory.

"Hey, listen," Dean said quietly, pulling Sam closer. "I will never let anything like this happen to you again, okay? I should have been there to stop it, but I wasn't, and I'm sorry."

"You weren't supposed to come," Sam told him. "You were supposed to be safe."

"What do you mean?" Dean asked, remembering all the times Sam had told him that during the memory of the bar. Safe from what, the same fate?

Sam just shook his head and tightened his grip on Dean, who in turn secured his hold on Sam.

"I'm not letting you go, okay?" Dean whispered, pressing his lips to Sam's forehead in comfort.

That must have helped, because the tension eased out of Sam slowly in response.

Both Tim and Reggie took memory Sam dry, seeming to enjoy the fact that the cock cage prevented their victim from even getting hard. That was actually curious to Dean, because Sam hadn't been wearing a cock cage when he'd found him. They must have taken it off for some reason, and Dean wasn't sure that was a good thing.

The next activity seemed to be beating the crap out of Sam, who took most of the hits pretty well until a well aimed hit to his injured back knocked him out from pain.

"Worthless," Reggie spat, kicking at Sam's legs as he walked away.

"We're just getting started with you," Tim mumured, patting Sam's cheek harshly before walking out after Reggie.

As the scene faded, Dean took a deep breath. How much more of this was he going to have to watch? Sam had been gone for almost three weeks by the time he and Castiel had found him. If every day was as bad as the one he'd just witnessed, it was no wonder that Sam was a broken wreck trapped in his own head.


	4. Breaking Sam

The next few days wort of memories that Dean saw were not very much different from the first he had witnessed. In each, Sam was repeatedly beaten, raped, and verbally abused until he was hanging limp from his chains, unable to summon anymore defiance. Watching was hard, but it became clear after several days worth of memories that the Sam Dean was holding in his arms and protecting from the memories was growing stronger. He still flinched a lot and seemed to think that Tim and Reggie had told him the truth about how worthless he was, but he was less broken looking, and his responses to Dean's questions were firmer. He was slowly mending.

At least, that had been Dean's hope. That was before the memory of the phone arrived. Based on Dean's estimate, he'd seen the first week of Sam's capture. The next day's memory came into existence, and he narrowed his eyes curiously at Tim and Reggie as they entered the room. Something was different this time.

"Wake up, whore," Tim commanded, aiming a swift kick at Sam's calf.

Sam jerked in his bonds, and managed to aim a scowl at Tim. "What?" He spat.

"I've got a little something for you," Tim told him with a grin. "See, we checked your phone, and you've got quite a few voicemails waiting for you. Here, take a listen." Tim pressed a button on Sam's phone and held it out, Dean's voice filling the room.

"Sam, it's me. Call me back, okay? Something's happened, and we need to talk. Call me."

Dean remembered that message. It was the first one he'd left, when he'd come back from 2014 and decided to hook back up with his little brother. That plan hadn't exactly worked out. Dean watched as Tim erased the voicemail, then selected the next one listed in Sam's voice inbox.

"Sam, where the hell are you? Answer the damn phone, man, it's important."

That had been the next day. Dean had called Sam a half a dozen times in between those messages, and had been getting frustrated with the lack of response. Tim repeated the erasing process, then selected the next message.

"Seriously, Sam, call me. If you're still pissed about the last time we talked, I'm sorry, really, but we need to meet up and talk this out. Please, just call me, okay?"

That had been the day after, and Dean had started to worry that Sam was just too mad at him to answer the phone. By day four, he was worried about another outcome entirely.

"Sam, for the love of anything remotely freaking holy, where are you? I'm seriously worried, dude. Call me!"

Dean couldn't believe that it had taken him a week to snap and start actively hunting for Sam. Clearly a week of radio silence meant something was wrong. What the hell was the matter with him?

"It isn't your fault, Dean," Sam murmured from Dean's arms, looking up at him with a comforting expression. "You saved me. I don't blame you for not coming earlier."

"I should have known something was wrong long before," Dean muttered, irritated with himself. "You were being tortured, Sam."

"Yeah, but you didn't know. You couldn't have known. It's okay - you were safe." Sam relaxed again and returned to his position laying against Dean, practically cuddling.

Sam seemed to have a fixation on keeping Dean safe in these memories, and Dean wasn't entirely sure why. He hadn't been able to coax an answer to that from his brother yet. He listened to the next two voicemails, both of which were pretty desperate sounding, and winced at how he sounded echoing in the basement. The Sam in the memory looked angry and despondent, glaring at Tim, as though it was a cardinal sin for his captor to be going through his voicemail.

"So, I thought all those were pretty interesting," Tim began, pacing slightly, "But then I stumble across this little gem you've saved."

The Sam in the memory and the Sam in Dean's arms both froze in exactly the same way at exactly the same time, startling Dean. The Sam that was chained up looked furious, and hurled obscenities at Tim until Reggie punched him in the gut. The Sam in Dean's arms stayed frozen, only a subtle shaking betraying that he was even breathing. Dean was completely thrown. What the hell was so bad?

"See, big brother sounds like he's all concerned, but this one clarifies everything. What are you, Sam, an obligation? Some piece of luggage that Dean just has to deal with?" Tim chuckled as he circled his prisoner.

Sam didn't dignify that with a response, continuing to scowl at Tim, and spitting at him when he came back into view.

"Nice try. Why don't we give this one a listen?" Tim held up the phone and pressed the button.

"NO!" Sam objected, but it was too late.

Dean's harsh voice filled the room, his tone so biting and cruel that it hardly seemed to belong to the worried man who had left all the other voicemails. "Listen to me, you bloodsucking freak. Dad always said I'd either have to save you or kill you. Well, I'm giving you fair warning, I'm done trying to save you. You're a monster, Sam, a vampire. You're not you anymore. And there's no going back."

The Sam in chains had completely deflated, all fight draining out of him in one go. The Sam in Dean's arms was crying, great sobs wracking through his body.

Dean was in shock, clinging to Sam to stop him from shaking apart, but hardly able to do much more than that. What the hell? Where had that message come from? Clearly it wasn't the first time Sam had listened to it, and his reaction to it was almost as surprising as the message itself.

"See, even big brother has given up on your worthless hide," Tim explained. "Nobody cares about you anymore. Now, the way I figure it, Dean probably thinks he's obligated to look for you, seeing as how you're missing and all. Well, on the off chance he finds you, we'd have to capture him too. Now, he's a pain in the ass, but he's not pure evil the way you are. You deserve to be punished, but him we'd probably just shoot. At least then he doesn't have to worry about you anymore. Then again, you could call him back, and tell him to drop it. It's up to, whore. You can keep your brother safe."

Dean bristled. He knew exactly what Tim was doing. Cutting off any hope Sam had for rescue would make it that much easier to break him.

"I'll do it," Sam whispered.

"Good." Tim hit the speed dial and held the phone up to Sam's ear for him. "Make it believable."

Dean could hear his own voice echo out of the phone. "Sam? What the hell, man? I've been trying to get a hold of you for over a week!"

Sam glanced at Tim, who gave him a stern look. "...Sorry, Dean." His voice was strained from shouting and yelling, and he turned his head away to clear his throat.

"Are you okay?"

"I'm..." Sam looked at Tim, then at Reggie, both of whom were glaring at him as though he already had Lucifer inside of him. He took a deep breath to steady himself before continuing. "Yeah, Dean, I'm fine. Why were you calling?"

"To talk. I...some serious crap went down after you called me, and I changed my mind. I wanted to tell you, but you wouldn't pick up the damn phone."

"Sorry. I've been..." Sam closed his eyes and sucked in another breath. "Busy."

"Can we meet up?"

Sam visibly flinched at the question, and his eyes opened, filled with hurt. "The thing is, Dean, you were right. It's probably better if we stay away from each other for now. I'm...off the grid, I guess, and you shouldn't look for me." He glanced at Tim, who nodded in approval, and Sam looked away, his expression like a wounded puppy.

"You serious, Sam? Because I don't think that's the smart thing anymore."

"Just, trust me. You're much safer if you stay away from me. I...it's just better, okay?" Sam tried to make the words sound forceful, and Tim's tapping finger on the gun in his belt gave him plenty of motivation.

"Man, what about Lucifer? You want to just deal with that crap by yourself?"

"I got myself into this mess, Dean, I can handle it." Sam made the words firm, not moving his eyes away from Tim's threatening glare.

"This isn't going to end well, Sam. We need to be together. We're stronger as a team."

Sam's expression was tortured as he forced himself to say, "No, Dean, we're not. You're better off on your own? Just, stick with Cas and take care of yourself, okay?" He sighed slowly, trying to calm himself.

"What are you going to do?"

Sam glanced up at the chains and exhaled slowly. "Hold on."

Tim snapped the phone away from him and ended the call. "Who's Cas?" He asked casually.

"His name is Castiel," Sam snapped, taking offense to Tim using the nickname. "He's Dean's best friend."

"Not yours?" Tim taunted.

"He...doesn't really like me," Sam muttered reluctantly.

"Why'd that?" Tim asked, his tone still mocking.

"He thinks I'm..." Sam trailed off, not wanting to answer that.

"Worthless? Evil? A freak?" Reggie supplied, his lips twisting into a cruel smile.

Sam turned his head away, but it was answer enough. He knew that the angel saw evil when he looked at him.

"Well, it doesn't matter," Tim dismissed. "Nobody's coming for you, because you're not worth saving. You'd just get them killed."

Sam merely nodded in agreement with that.

"Say it," Reggie demanded, slapping Sam across the face.

"Nobody's coming," Sam repeated in a monotone.

"Because?" Tim prompted.

"I don't deserve to be saved," Sam finished, flinching as Reggie laughed and delivered a sharp jab to his side.

Sam hung from his chains, whimpering as Tim and Reggie beat him, looking far more broken than he had in any other memories.

Dean finally managed to collect himself enough to focus on the Sam in his arms, who was still a wreck. "God, Sam," he murmured, not sure where to start. The voicemail was a good place to begin. "Sam, where the hell did that voicemail come from?"

Sam whimpered, looking surprised. "You left me a message. I was on my way to kill Lilith, and I didn't want to drain the demon Ruby and I found, and I was having second thoughts, and then I heard..." His face crumpled, and he looked like he was going to cry again. "I wasn't strong enough to make the right choice," he said bitterly. "It's my fault that Lucifer's free."

"Sam, I swear to God, if He even cares, I did not leave that message. I did call you, but I apologized for what happened in the hotel, I promise. Zachariah must have screwed with the message. He told me he was going to push you, but if I'd known it would be me...Sam, how could you believe for even a minute that I would say those things to you?" Dean knew his own eyes were tearing up, but he didn't care.

Sam looked up at him, confused. "Because they're true," He explained, as thought it was obvious.

Dean shook Sam hard to get his attention, his expression fierce. "Sam, you are my little brother, and I love you, okay? I know we never say crap like that, but it's true. I will never give up on you, and I will never let you go, you hear me? Even if I'm so pissed at you I can't even look at you, don't you ever think that that means I've given up on you. You hear me?"

Staring at him in shock, it took Sam a minute before he slowly nodded. "Yeah."

"Good. That's a start."

Tim and Reggie may have broken Sam, but Dean was starting to hope that maybe he could put his brother back together again.


	5. Fixing Sam

Dean felt his first real rush of hope regarding Sam's well being come after their conversation about the voicemail. Suddenly Sam was stronger, and wasn't clinging quite as desperately to Dean. He still let himself be held though, and seemed to take real comfort from Dean's embrace. Dean had never really been big on hugs, but he suddenly found that he was incapable of relinquishing contact with his baby brother. He frequently dipped his head down to place a kiss on Sam's forehead, or rubbed up and down his arms in comfort.

There were more memories after that, and Dean shielded Sam from them all. After the memory with the voicemail, Tim and Reggie took advantage of that psychological torment to break Sam down, turning him into the wreck Dean and Castiel had rescued. After a few days of that though, they must have grown tired of it, because the beatings and rapes became more frequent again. Dean noted when they removed the cock cage, since he knew Sam hadn't been wearing it when they'd found him. It was almost worse that it was off though, because watching Tim and Reggie force Sam through so many orgasms that he began to beg through tears for them to stop was a sight he'd never wanted to see.

Despite how hard the memories were to experience, with each one that passed, Sam seemed to come back to himself a little more. Perhaps it was a form of closure, but Dean's theory was that having him there to rebuttal everything his captors had said was what was helping reform Sam's psyche.

Finally, towards the end of a particularly nasty beating with Tim and Reggie that Dean had had to turn away from, Sam relaxed completely against Dean, seeming peaceful.

"You okay?" Dean asked cautiously.

"Yeah," Sam nodded. "It's almost over. You came the next morning."

As the scene changed, Dean realized that he was right. He watched as his memory self and Castiel burst into the room, and Sam was struck unconscious, causing the memory to fade out completely. The scene to form next seemed to be a library. There was little noise, and in the distance Dean could see himself and Sam as young kids, pouring over some book.

"What's this?" Dean asked, curious.

"It's a dream I have sometimes," Sam commented. "Dad was upset about something, so you pulled me out of the motel room and took me to the library, because you knew that would distract me. We found a book on medieval castles and spent like three hours here, totally geeking out."

Dean remembered that, especially the rage his father had been in that had made Dean concerned enough to pull Sam out of the line of fire and into a library, hardly Dean's first choice. "Dude, I don't geek out," he protested teasingly.

Sam rolled his eyes. "You were just as into it as I was. Anyway, this is one of my safety dreams, I think. Sometimes when I really need it, I have dreams about times like this."

Dean had to smile at that, and he tilted his head slightly to kiss Sam's forehead again. "I like this memory too. Don't you think maybe it's time to wake up now though?"

Frowning slightly, Sam looked up at Dean. "Why?"

"What do you mean, why?" Dean asked, bewildered.

"If I stay in a coma, then Lucifer can't take my body, and I won't be a danger. You and Cas can go take on the apocalypse, and he can keep you safe." Sam's expression was earnest.

Dean was quiet for a moment, before he shifted their positions so that he could look Sam in the eye. "Listen closely. I am not taking on this fight without you, no matter whose angel condom you're destined to be. I need you, and I'm not letting you back out of this fight. Believe it or not, I'm safer with you watching my back, got it?"

Sam didn't look like he completely agreed, but he nodded. "You really want me around?" He asked warily.

"I shouldn't have let you leave in the first place," Dean muttered.

"This wasn't your fault," Sam interjected, surprised.

"No? You wouldn't have been anywhere near those assholes if I hadn't driven you off," Dean argued.

Sam hesitated, before asking tentatively, "What happened to them?"

Dean shrugged. "Dunno. I asked Cas to take care of it. I'm not sure if he killed them or put the fear of holy wrath into them, but he told me that they were taken care of."

Making a small noise of acknowledgement, Sam shifted back to lean up against Dean. "I guess it's time to wake up then, huh?"

"I'd appreciate it," Dean said wryly.

"We'll be okay?" Sam asked, his voice sounded almost timid.

"Yeah, Sam, we'll be okay," Dean reassured him.

The library scene around them began to fade away, leaving only blackness. Dean felt an odd sucking sensation, then found him suddenly at Sam's bedside again. The transition was disorienting, and he stumbled as he tried to regain his bearings.

"Are you well?" Castiel asked sincerely.

"Yeah, fine. Sam?" A glance at  the bed told him that his brother was not awake.

"No longer comatose," Castiel confirmed. "He is in a natural sleep, and will wake up soon."

"Good, come out in the hall for a sec so we don't wake him." Dean towed the angel into the hallway, closing the door to Sam's room quietly behind him. "I need you to talk to him when he wakes up."

"What about?" Castiel inquired. "Were you not able to fix him?"

"No, I think he'll be fine," Dean informed him. "That's not what I meant. I need you to tell him that you don't...okay, this is awkward. Do you get that Sam thinks you hate him?"

Castiel recoiled as though slapped. "Where would he receive that impression?" The angel asked, surprised.

"I'm not one hundred percent sure here, but it sounded to me like Sam thinks you see him as some kind of evil freak. Not to be critical or anything, man, but I can sort of see where he'd get that idea. You've never been exactly friendly towards him." Dean cringed slightly as he spoke, feeling guilty about accusing Castiel of that kind of rudeness.

"I consider Sam a friend," Castiel told him sternly. "He has made several very poor decisions, but I am aware enough of his heart to believe that he was convinced he was doing right. For that, I cannot fault him. The demon blood he has carried since infancy cannot be helped, so I withold judgement on that score as well."

"Great. Can you tell him that? Not to be rude, but the opinion of an angel is going to mean a hell of a lot more to him than it does to me. I mean, I like you fine, but Sam's the one that grew up praying to all things holy for deliverance, you know? It would mean a lot to him, to me, for you to tell him he's not evil. Especially since he found out he's Lucifer's vessel, I think he really needs to hear someone with Heavenly authority say it." Dean blew out a breath slowly, losing steam in his explanation. He looked at Castiel beseechingly. "Please, Cas?"

"Of course," Castiel nodded. "I understand, and I will do what I can to set his mind at ease."

Dean smiled, relieved. "Good. Maybe we can all come out of this thing okay."

"Then we will face the apocalypse," Castiel said stoically.

Dean rolled his eyes. "Geez, Cas, one catastrophy at a time." He shook his head, amused, and opened Sam's door again, walking back into the room right as Sam began to stir. "Sam? Hey, man, you okay?"

Sam blinked twice before his gaze settled on Dean and his eyes flew fully open. "Dean?" He asked, sounding surprised.

"You were expecting the pizza guy?" Dean asked wryly, taking a seat beside the bed. "You feeling any better?"

"I feel like I was beat up for almost two weeks," Sam informed him flatly. His lips twitched slightly, before he relaxed against his pillows and shrugged. "I think I'll be okay though."

"Good." Dean rested a hand on Sam's arm, still not quite able to get over the intimacy of their time in Sam's mind. It felt right to be touching. "Do you remember everything I said in there?" He pointed to Sam's head.

Sam nodded slowly. "It's a little fuzzy, but I think I have the gist of it." His expression turned serious. "Are you okay?"

"Me?" Dean stared at him. "Dude, I'm fine. You're the one that spent a few weeks with two sadists, why are you worried about me?"

Sam gave him a glare. "You fought off those sadists and then had to go through everything I did in my memories. Give me a break and let me be concerned about you."

Dean rolled his eyes. "Neither of them got in any lucky shots, and I don't care what I had to watch to pull you out of yourself and heal your mind. It was worth it. I'll deal."

Sam didn't seem completely happy with that answer but he nodded anyway. "Okay."

"Cas needs to talk to you," Dean informed him, getting to his feet. "I'm going to go find a nurse to make sure you're doing all right, and I'll be back in a few minutes, okay?" He directed this part to Castiel, to give him an idea of how long he had to talk.

"That will be sufficient, Dean. Thank you." Castiel nodded at him as Dean slipped out the door.

"Cas?" Sam asked warily.

"I wish you to know that the men who dared harm you have been dealt with," Castiel told him seriously. "Neither will ever touch you again."

"Thanks, Cas," Sam replied, relief coloring his tone.

"In the future, if you could refrain from getting yourself into such dangerous situations, I believe your brother and I would both appreciate the lack of stress." Castiel requested with a tone of humor.

"Did Dean give you a hard time?" Sam asked.

"That was not the stress I was referring to," Castiel admonished him. "I find it the sensation of worrying distasteful, especially when it is a friend that has gone missing."

"A friend?" Sam echoed before he could stop himself, sounding surprised.

"I consider you a friend, Sam Winchester, and I would no more desire you to be treated as you were than I would Dean." Castiel was looking at him sternly, as though he'd done something wrong.

Sam looked mildly confused. "They wanted revenge on me for starting the apocalypse," Sam told him reluctantly.

"They were wrong to do so," Castiel told him emphatically. "You have made some wrong choices, Sam, but you have a good heart. To be fair, Dean is as much responsible for the falling of the seals as you are, and both of you are eager to solve the problem, so I do not see why you are blaming yourselves for the manipulations of both Heaven and Hell on your lives. You should both let go of the self-recrimination, as it is not healthy nor helpful."

Sam gaped at him slightly before managing to nod. "I think wallowing in guilt and self-doubt is a Winchester thing," He pointed out, but his tone was lighter.

"I've noticed," Castiel said dryly.

Dean came back into the room at that point, smiling at the apparently amicable conversation. "Everything good in here?"

"We're good," Sam confirmed, smiling slightly.

"Awesome. The nurse will be here in a minute to check you out. You should check her out too. Nice legs." Dean winked laciviously at Sam, who rolled his eyes at his brother.

"Thanks, but I'm good." Sam replied.

There was comfortable silence for a moment as Dean took up his seat beside Sam's bed again and rested his hand back on Sam's arm. "It's good to have you back, Sammy," he said quietly.

Immediately Sam's expression softened and he relaxed fully into the bed, his eyes flashing up to Dean's face, wrestling with a myriad of emotions. "Do you know the last time you..." He trailed off, shaking his head slightly. "Thank you."

Dean didn't need any education level higher than a GED to figure out was Sam was reacting to. He couldn't remember the last time he'd called his brother Sammy, and clearly Sam had noticed the nickname's absence. He resolved to never withold the endearment again, no matter how mad they might get at each other. If Sam's reaction was any indication, then nothing justified hurting his brother that way.

The nurse entered the room then, and began adjusting Sam's medication, asking him questions about his pain level and whether or not he needed anything at that moment.

Sam was healing, Dean was back with his brother, where he belonged, and Castiel was watching over them both. Maybe they would get through the apocalypse after all.


End file.
